I like brussel sprouts. go figure.

I thought I’d give them another chance. it took this long for the taste of mother’s “special” boiled brussel sprouts to wear off (‘special’ because once boiled, my mother doused it with soy sauce to mask the smell). tonight, I pan fried them in olive oil with a bit of sea salt and some pine nuts. they were delightful! I’m going to make them again tomorrow night.

now I can cross another thing off my “sorry, I tried, but I still hate/dislike/abhor you/it/ them” list. some other items on the list are:

turnips
beets
yams
Harry Potter
ayn rand
marmite
country music
Coldplay
Kerouac
salt & vinegar crisps
wagner
coriander leaves
gwyneth paltrow
spa days
bukowski
blue cheese

I may have to add Dorothy Sayers to the list but I’m going to read another book. the nine tailors had such potential but the ending fell really flat for me. as soon as I read the last word, I was like “are you f*cking kidding me?” I’m reading Poirot short stories before bed now and during the day, I’m reading Harold Pinter.

oh, and the Brit got us tickets to see David Attenborough live in August. I am beside myself with excitement. it’s on my “things I really want to do” list. more specifically, it was “have dinner with David Attenborough and ask him questions about his pet bush babies” but being in the same room with him will suffice.

okey dokey. I’m off to make the Brit a lemsip (he has man flu) and me a chai latte.

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